


Numb

by Multiduel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23325952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiduel/pseuds/Multiduel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Numb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kasimere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasimere/gifts).



He sat alone in some far part of the castle. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure where this was. He’d just kept walking till he hit a wall. The cold from the stone he was sat against was creeping through his jacket, sending the occasional shiver up his spine. His knees ached from being crouched in the same position for hours on end, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. It was like he’d gone fully numb. Unable to move. Unable to process anything except the screaming in his ears. His fingers were gripped so tightly in his hair he could feel blood run down the side of his face. His breathing was ragged, coming out in shaking gasps and he sobbed into his knees.

**No.**

The distant clatter of armour signalled the shift change for the guards. He’d been here for hours. They’d arrived back at Skyhold around midmorning. No-one had spoken. They hadn’t known what to say. Grief, regret, anguish. A recipe for silence. All the way back from Adamant. He was actually glad about it. Nothing was less comforting than empty reassurances.

**It’s just a trick.**

Someone had called him as he’d walked away. He’d ignored them. Just kept walking. Through the gates, up the stairs, down one corridor then another. Now he was here. Trying to curl up in himself. Trying to wake himself up from a dream that cruelly continued. The tears had stopped a while ago, what remained of them stained his skin. He was left with ugly sobs as his lungs fought against the shaking of his shoulders.

**It wasn’t supposed to end like this.**

He cursed the Maker under his breath. Again, and again. Blaming. Promising. Pleading for another chance. Praying for forgiveness. Begging to go back. He released the grip on his hair to swiftly throw his head backwards, so it hit against the wall. Pain crashed across his senses. For a moment it blocked everything out. So, he did it again.

**Not for her.**

The pain spread around his skull, like a crushing weight forcing its way through the bone. He let his arms fall to his sides and struck the wall with the back of his head over and over. His vision blacked at the edges.

**She deserved more.**

A sharp spike of feeling when bone struck stone amongst the heavy dullness that had encompassed everything else. He shut his eyes and let the sensation overwhelm him.

**I should have stopped her.  
I should have made her listen.  
I should have dragged her out.  
I should have.  
I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. I should have. Useless. Useless. Useless. Useless. Useless. Useless.**

His mind swum in blackness as his head suddenly hit something soft. Hands cradled around either side of his face. He tried to open his eyes but something wet flooded his vision. Someone said his name. Then everything went quiet.

*  
**When you tell people about our escape from Lothering, why do you make it seem like I have food all over my face?**

**You're larger than life, Hawke. I had to give you a few flaws just to make you approachable.**

**Did you call me fat?**

**Yes, that's pretty much how I tell it. "Hawke rolled into the fray like a gigantic pudding, covered in gravy." It's more dramatic that way.**

**He smiled up at her, allowing himself a moment to drink her in as she leaned against the wall by his door, committing every detail to memory. The way her hair fell just in front of her eyes causing her to flick her head periodically to clear it. The smudges of make up around her eyes that she hadn’t bothered touching up since she’d first put it on three days prior. The way she stretched herself up when she was cross, puffing out her chest like an angry cat. The way the edges of her lips curled upwards whenever she caught him staring.**

**Does it have to be gravy? Couldn't it be chocolate instead? ******

******* **

********

********

Light worked its way back through the corners of his eyes. Every part of him ached making him silently beg for the numbness to return. Something soft was pressed against the back of his head with enough pressure to make him wince. He tried to sit up but a small hand on his chest pushed him back. It was only then he noticed he was laying down, his head in someone’s lap. He tried to open his eyes again only to be met with the same wetness as before. He smelled blood. Something cool and damp was dragged carefully over his eyelids, clearing the crimson liquid from his skin. He grunted against the pressure on his head and was finally able to see who was now with him. Blue eyes surrounded by pale skin. The eyes were rimmed by dark marks like bruises and full of concern.

Bony knees poked into his back a little as he laid against the kid’s legs. The boy had one hand holding a cloth on the back of the dwarf’s head, the other held a rag that was tinged red. He used it to dab at the sides of the writer’s face with a tenderness not seen before in the spirit.

He tried to sit up again, but the same hand was used to push him back down, so he just lay there. For a long while neither spoke, just listened to the distant sounds of Skyhold going about its business. He jumped when the kid finally said something.

“She didn’t blame you.”

He felt like someone had just slammed a knife into his guts and pulled up. His breathing stuttered again, and he couldn’t respond. The spirit continued anyway.

“You blame you.”

The dwarf blinked away the burning from the corners of his eyes and spoke on an exhale.

“Yeah.”

“Why.”

It wasn’t a question, it should have been, but it wasn’t. More, a statement of fact that didn’t want a response. So, he didn’t give it one. He let it hang there as the minutes ticked past.

“It hurts because she chose it.”

**“No.”**

He struggled to sit up, fighting against the hand.

“She didn’t have a choice; she didn’t choose anything.”

The spirit was silent. The blackness began to swim at the corners of the author's vision again, so he allowed himself to be laid back down. The boy looked off into a corner, his expression appeared far away.

“She smiled.”

“She did.”

“It was for you.”

The dwarf didn’t answer, too afraid he’d start crying again if he did. He felt a hand press on his chest.

“Proud.”

He frowned, keeping his eyes shut.

“Who is?”

“She was wondering if you were proud of her. She never asked, but she always wanted to know.”

He could feel his cheeks burn as fresh tears ran down them. The saltwater mixing with the metallic flavour of blood, creating a bitter taste on his lips. He reached up and gripped the hand that was still resting on him. It was squeezed softly, causing him to audibly sob. The spirit looked away from the corner and back down at the dwarf who still had his eyes shut.

“She wanted you to know, she wasn’t afraid.”

Varric used his free hand to press over his face, whispering through his fingers.

“She never was.”

********

********

********


End file.
